The Best We Can Do
by forgetcanon
Summary: She offers Mical the chance the Jedi denied him.


Note: I don't know who Meetra Surik is, but I sure as hell didn't write a story about her.

* * *

><p>Soleria caught his eye later that day as she left the administrative building. Mical had not expected to see her again so soon, even after he gave her his contact information in the Enclave. He was still waiting to hear back from Admiral Onasi.<p>

She drew him aside and addressed him without preamble.

"Do you have any experience with medicine?"

Mical blinked. "Yes, quite a bit. I am not technically not an M.D., but my studies tended towards the medical side of biology."

She nodded, glanced around the quad, and spoke quietly.

"Khoonda is going to be attacked later today. Azkul's mercenaries. Somewhere between twenty and fifty men. If you want to get off planet, I wouldn't blame you. But if you want the chance to use your skills to actually _help_ people-"

The spark in her eyes. The set of her jaw. She was ready to bully him into it if she had to.

"Who do I report to?" Mical asked.

Soleria smiled. Her shoulders fell in relief. "Me. I expect an assessment of Khoonda's medical readiness within the hour."

* * *

><p>He cleaned his hands thoroughly, half-way up his forearms. He would need to find a mirror and check himself for blood later- but should he do that before or after he ate? He'd eaten before the attack began, but that had been around sunset. It was nearing dawn. Eating came first, then.<p>

He dried his hands carefully and checked what he could. His pants were dark, but he could see the darker spot on his knee. When...? Ah, when he'd knelt to assist the militiawoman- the one with pale skin; brown hair; blaster shots to lower right abdominal quadrant and inner left thigh. He'd known almost instantly that she could not be saved- Khoonda didn't have the supplies-

His ears roared. His hands shook.

Mical took a deep breath. He knelt, then sat, and studied the underside of the sink where he'd just washed his hands. He memorized the layout of the pipes until he felt like could walk. It would do no one any good if he fainted.

He needed to eat. He would go do that. Then he would return to his patients, then he would go plead with the administrator for the right to treat the injured mercenaries. If he spotted Master Vrook again in the chaos, he would try to speak to him. Maybe somewhere along the line, he would track down a cup of caffa.

There had been three deaths. There were two more people who were on the edge but who Mical was hopeful for. Nine other injured.

He weighed that against the thirty or so dead mercenaries. Against the other dozen in captivity, wounded or not, that he was unable to treat. There would be a mass grave for them in a few days.

So their losses were far less than the mercenaries' losses. He wasn't comforted.

* * *

><p>Soleria found him while he was plowing steadily through a warmed up can of beans. "Dr. Serret," she said.<p>

Mical looked her over. Her hair was still in its rows, though she'd managed to clean the blood off her face at some point and change out of her armor. She looked drawn and tired, but not exhausted. She was not shaking or sweating and her color seemed normal.

But he doubted she was coming to him for a check up.

"Miss Soleria. May I help you?" he asked.

"Perhaps," Soleria said. She nodded to his can. "Don't let me interrupt."

Mical smiled slightly and scraped his spoon along the side of the can. As though he could eat casually while she talked to him. "I'm nearly finished."

"You did a good job today," Soleria said. "You're a talented medic. Thank you for helping."

Mical ate a spoonful of beans. It was better than trying to come up with a response to that. The bloodstain on his knee didn't make him feel like a good medic.

"Are you interested in a job?"

Mical swallowed quickly. "What kind of job?"

"Join my crew," she said. She leaned on the wall next to him as she spoke and gestured with her free hand. "Free room and board and access to the holonet and comms within reason."

"In exchange for...?" Mical asked, frowning. Access to the comms was tempting.

Soleria smiled. "I think we both know why you'd want to come with me."

Mical froze. Had she placed his face? Was she-

"Don't look like that," Soleria said. "I asked around. Your questions about my ship were not subtle, and neither were your questions about whether or not anyone knew where I was going. You're not Exchange, but you're after Jedi, and you're a Republic-trained doctor."

Mical nodded hesitantly. She hadn't realized that they'd already met, but her knowing that he was a Republic spy wasn't any more comfortable. However, lying about that would do nothing for him now. "Yes. I'm attempting to track down whatever Jedi remain." There was no need to mention that this assignment was a personal favor. There was absolutely no need to mention that the Republic itself had no idea what to do with any Jedi they found.

"What did your superiors say about me?" Soleria asked. She sounded genuinely curious.

Mical shrugged. "To watch you, but to not interfere otherwise."

She frowned. "That's it?"

Mical nodded. "They said they knew you were around, but that beyond your whereabouts, there is to be no interference in your actions."

Soleria looked contemplative. "Interesting. I wonder..." But she did not complete the thought.

Mical reflexively stirred his beans. "In any event, even knowing this, you want me on my crew?"

"Well, yes. I don't have a dedicated medic at the moment and you're a good hand in combat. Having a connection might help us in a pinch. Your knowledge of the Jedi will definitely help- I'm incapable of being objective about them." She smiled slightly at that last bit and shrugged.

"Understandably so," Mical said. "Your offer is room and board and access to the holonet and comms, in exchange for my medical skills, my arm in combat, and keeping the Republic off your back?"

"That's the long and the short of it. If we come into any credits, you'll get a cut, but for the moment no one's getting paid. Most of it is going into repairing the ship." Her smile became genuine. "And you'll have to stop calling me Miss Soleria. My first name is Tiniat, please use it."

Mical smiled slightly. "Very well, Tiniat. How long until you leave?"

She thought for a moment. "You have at least a day to think. I'll make sure to find you if our schedule gets bumped up."

Mical nodded. "Thank you. I'll consider it."

* * *

><p>There were no more deaths among the militia or the civilians. His patients were all well on the road to recovering, some more fully than others.<p>

Having no way to detain the mercenaries or ship them off planet, the militia executed the remainder of their captives late at night. No one batted an eye at the extra dozen bodies as they were loaded onto a hovercar to be buried outside of town.

Mical could not track down Master Vrook, despite having seen him. Administrator Adare pointedly denied having seen any Jedi except for the one who refused to be seen anywhere without her lightsaber and suggested that he do the same.

He'd done his best.

Mical closed his eyes and tried not to consider how many of the mercenaries were blameless in this. How many of them needed to eat and had no other skills, or how many of them would have been killed by Azkul for disobeying his orders. Whether or not Master Vrook would survive on a planet that hated Jedi, even if they were softening now that one of them had reminded them what it meant to follow the code.

He'd done his best.

Force willing, it would be enough.

* * *

><p>The last six months he'd spent as an apprentice Jedi had been excruciating.<p>

There were no Masters that he wished to teach him. All of the ones he'd admired, the ones who followed the code's spirit rather than the letter, were fighting. The ones who had offered to teach him-

_But if you want the chance to use your skills to actually help people-_

-Had not been fit for the task.

Why did one become a Jedi, if it was not to help? How could one sit back and argue and stonewall on a council far removed from the world? To add gold braid to the edges of their humble robes? To be acclaimed by the galaxy at large as a fountain of wisdom, even when that fountain ran dry?

To watch as mercenaries destroyed the last remnant of a colony the Jedi had one shared a sworn symbiosis with?

Mical had never accepted it then. He did not accept it now.

Vrook could remain on Dantooine in the shadows of the decimated enclave. Mical knew where to find a Jedi.


End file.
